


Total Drama Limbo

by Dott



Category: The Good Place (TV), Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Limbo, Alternate Universe - The Good Place (TV) Fusion, Chris is a chaos demon and I've always wanted to explore that, Gen, Limbo, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 08:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dott/pseuds/Dott
Summary: A bunch of newly-dead teenagers have been randomly selected to compete in Limbo for a spot in The Good Place. One winner, twenty-one losers. Nobody thinks dying is fun, but who expected it to suck this hard?





	Total Drama Limbo

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not too concerned about any nitpicky plot holes since I wrote this in less than a day, mostly because I can't stop thinking about this concept. I can't get it out of my head. So I'm sorry if I got any details wrong! I'm going off of what I remember from my last TDI rewatch.

Just a minute or two left before the show began. The higher-ups weren't going to regret allowing Chris to lead this project.

Chris looked closer at his roster of spirits -- er, campers-- as the boat approached the dock on the horizon. He squinted at some of their pictures, studying the faces of the souls he was going to be dealing with.

They looked like a bunch of whiny losers. This was going to be perfect.

As the boat got closer, he was able to see who was on board. A plain-looking girl. That must be Beth. Chris saw her profile on the screen superimposed in his field of vision (he couldn't have any Good Place-grade monitors hovering around out where the campers could see them, so he opted for the contact lenses). Yep, that's Beth, alright.

Chris put on his game show host smile as she docked and then unboarded. As Chef, Chris's customized AI, handled her bags, Beth approached Chris.

She twiddled her thumbs, never managing to look him in the eye. Her gaze was focused on darting around frantically. "Um, hello. I can't remember how I got here. Where am I? The boat driver wouldn't tell me. He just kept giggling."

"Beth! Welcome to the island." He patted her shoulder. "Welcome to the afterlife. You're dead."

* * *

 

Once everyone arrived (with varying levels of shock, disbelief, and indifference), Chris corralled the newcomers around the campfire, ignoring their constant questions about being dead, if they were in Heaven or in Hell, and so on.

They had all taken their seats now, but their mouths were still running, so Chris snapped his fingers, and all of their mouths were sealed shut in an instant.

Some of them began to panic, but the host put his hand up. "Calm down, sheesh. I'm about to answer everything, but you're all going to shut up for a few minutes so I can explain." He snapped his fingers again. "And you'll sit in your seats, while I'm at it, because this is important."

Smiling at some of the looks he was getting, he continued. "Now, you're not in Heaven." He added a dramatic pause just to eat up the tension. "But you're not in Hell either. I know, I know, confusing. Anyone wanna take a guess where you are?"

The blonde one, Lindsay, raised her hand so fast that she would have fallen out of her seat if she hadn't been magically secured to it.

Chris unzipped her mouth. "Lindsay?"

"Camp?"

"Nope!" He zipped it back. "Good guess, though. Anyone else wanna take a crack at it?"

Duncan, the convict, raised his hand politely, and waited for his mouth to open. "Gonna try this even though you mentioned it already. I'm pretty sure this is Hell."

"Funny!" Chris zipped his mouth back, too. "All good guesses, but nope. You're currently in limbo. You haven't been sorted into one place or the other yet. And no, they aren't called Heaven and Hell. It's The Good Place and The Bad Place. Just to set the record straight."

Chris began pacing, watching the campers' eyes on him. "You've been randomly selected to be a part of the first ever competition of its caliber. All twenty-two of you, over the next six weeks, are going to fight tooth and nail in various grueling challenges to earn a spot in The Good Place. And I know what you're thinking." He put his hands on his sides, grinning triumphantly. "Why make you compete now? Isn't this stuff predetermined by my actions in life?

Well, in most cases, yes." Chris shrugged. "But The Good Place is getting full. We all know there's a lot of bad people lately, but there's also more good people than ever before. We're running out of accomodations. So, we're trying this out; giving people a chance to show how much they want to escape eternal torture. The winner will get full access to The Good Place, while the losers are sent...well, you know. Questions?"

Gwen, the creepy goth chick, had her hand raised, so Chris called on her. She asked, "So what you're saying is, nothing we did on Earth matters? We were picked for this for absolutely no reason?"

"Correct!"

"That's just _lovely_."

"No sarcasm allowed in the Q&A session." Zip.

Heather was next. She immediately raised her voice -- not to a shout, but to an indignant complaint. "This is stupid. It's totally unfair!"

"That's a comment, not a question." Zip.

Chris waited for another camper to speak up, but nobody seemed to want to. Their eyes were all filled with a thousand different emotions. He couldn't really blame them; this was experimental, but it was in the name of progress, so who were they to judge? 

He said, "Alrighty, if nobody else has any questions, and if we're all clear, I guess I'll split you guys into teams and let you gear up for your first challenge -- oh? Courtney?"

The girl had her hand up now, so she was given the floor. Her hands were folded in her lap. "Is there anybody I could talk to this? I'm pretty sure I don't belong here. I'm sure you, er... angels?"

Chris tapped his chin. "Angels will work, I guess."

"Angels. I'm sure you angels are more than reasonable about this sort of this thing, if I could just schedule a meeting with someone--"

"Sorry, nope. You're locked into this."

Courtney scoffed. "But I didn't agree to this."

Chris smiled in response. "Sorry. You haven't got a choice, but then again, neither do I."

* * *

 

_Six weeks later_

Owen tore past Gwen at speeds she didn't know any human was capable of, knocking her to the ground in the process. By the time she had sat up and caught her breath, he was past the finish line.

As Gwen watched her fellow camper whoop in delight, the other campers rallying to lift him on their shoulders, she felt Trent's hand on her shoulder, asking if she was okay. The dumb rock he was rolling along was off to his other side side.

In that moment, her mind felt nearly empty. It was over. She was going to The Bad Place.

All because of some brownies. Some stupid, fucking brownies.

Gwen nearly scoffed, but it came out as a sigh instead. Whatever Hell was like, it couldn't be any worse than here. She smiled weakly at Trent. "I'm okay. He probably deserves it more than me, anyway."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, and watched the other campers from afar. Her mind began to wander, enjoying her last moments of distraction before she was headed for eternal torture.

She remembered the cabins that probably hadn't been cleaned in decades. She remembered the six o'clock wake-up calls from Chris's helicopter. She remembered how sore her muscles were after any challenge that required physical duress.

Come to think of it, should her muscles have even been sore at all? Isn't this supposed to be purgatory, kind of a neutral zone? Why did this place suck so bad if it was supposed to be limbo?

She guessed it was mostly because of the people. That's where the majority of her stress in this stupid competition came from. The living conditions were god-awful, but the cockroaches infesting the cabins seemed like nice, pleasant company compared to Heather.

And then, thinking about the past few weeks, it hit her.

Gwen's breath caught in her throat, and she felt her blood run cold. Without another moment's thought, she stood up from her spot on the ground.

She didn't even hear Trent saying her name, asking what was wrong, didn't notice him standing up and following her. Her ears were ringing.

Gwen approached the crowd, deaf to their cheers and congratulations (they were mostly excited this whole thing was over, Bad Place be damned). She pushed through them, her eyes locked on Chris.

Chris stopped his celebratory clapping, but that smile of his stayed on his face. Gwen wanted to punch him so hard that his fucking smile fell off.

He raised his eyebrows. "What's the matter, Gwen? Sore loser?"

Her throat burned like someone had poured acid down it. She ripped the chicken hat off of her head and threw it at him, but it just bounced harmlessly off his chest.

Chris put his hands up. "Easy, easy. A lot of your buddies are gonna be joining you, you know -- it won't be so lonely. You'll have someone to chat with while your eyes are being pecked out."

"Owen's not going to The Good Place, is he?"

If Gwen's display hadn't shut the crowd up before, it was silent as death now.

Owen was his feet now; he had been set down once everyone saw Gwen approaching. His voice had a panicked edge to it, but he wasn't _quite_ on the brink yet. "But I won."

"You won. You won fair and square, Owen." Gwen shook her head. "But there's not a point to this competition, is there, Chris?"

The corners of Chris's mouth turned up in a more sinister way, but he said nothing.

Gwen breathed out through her nose. "Answer the question."

Chris chuckled.

Owen was behind Gwen now, too, gripping her shoulder. "Heh heh. Chris? Buddy? I won, that means I get to leave, right?"

Chris pinched his brow, still laughing to himself. "Go ahead, Gwen. Elaborate for your fellow campers."

Gwen grit her teeth. "Owen's not going to The Good Place because the prize wasn't an option to begin with. This isn't limbo at all. We weren't picked randomly."

Trent, who had taken Gwen's hand, had let her say what she had to say for the past minute, but the pieces were coming together in his head now, too. His grip on her hand loosened. "Oh my god."

Other campers were catching on, as well. Out of the corner of Gwen's eye, Duncan's hand flew to his forehead and he called Chris something under his breath that not even Gwen would say. Lindsay, who was beside him, loudly stated that she didn't get it, while Beth wove her fingers through hers. A general uneasiness washed over the crowd, whether they understood or not.

Gwen continued. "This island, this competition --  _everything_ about this has been Hell this entire time. _This_ is The Bad Place."

Before any campers could react further, Chris doubled over in laughter, cutting them off. He straightened himself back up and resumed his applause, but this time it was directed at Gwen. "Took ya long enough!"

She had already figured it out, but the vocal confirmation from Chris still felt like a punch to the gut. Still, her previous accusation had drained the angry out of her, and now she was just tired. So beyond tired.

Lindsay sounded a bit worried now. "What's going on? Are we dead?"

Chris blinked at Lindsay in the same way he usually blinked at her; flabbergasted at her intelligence, but still amused. "Yes, Lindsay, you're dead. And Gwen's right!" He turned back to the goth. "Gwen's the one that figured it out! The Hell thing, I mean. Not the dead part. I told you guys that when you first got here."

Owen had taken his hat off by this point, as well. "So I'm not gonna go to the pool party that goes on forever?"

"Nope!"

"Why'd you make us fight, then?"

Duncan had the same look of hatred he had when Courtney had been voted off, but now it was somehow even more intense. "That's the torture, big guy. That was the whole point. We were big enough dopes that we went along with it."

Chris nodded. "And I woulda milked it for as long as possible if one of you hadn't been so obnoxiously smart. Seriously, I thought it was gonna be that nerd..." he gestured to Noah, "...not the one who died from using too much hair dye."

Noah crossed his arms, attempting to look annoyed, but clearly upset that he hadn't been the one to figure it out. Gwen simply stared. "Too much hair dye?"

"Oh, yeah." Chris snickered. "Some of you guys kicked the can in some pretty stupid ways. It's hilarious. Makes for good TV here in the underworld"

Beth was one of the only campers whose expression had any semblance of bravery. "Why us? Why all of us? Was it really random?"

The host shook his head. "Nah. We had an influx of teenage deaths, and I had a new torture idea I wanted to try out, so the higher-ups let me run you guys through the computer, and it gave me the best combination possible."

Trent stared. "Best combination?"

"Yeah, as in a group of people that are perfectly calculated to get on each other's nerves for all of eternity."

Katie and Sadie grabbed onto each other. It couldn't be discerned who was talking until one said the other's name, since they were near the back of the group. "But me and Sadie love each other! We're BFFFLs!"

Courtney rolled her eyes. "You're clearly here to annoy US, not each other." She stepped to the front of the group, her fists clenched. "Alright, Chris. I want an audience with whoever's in charge here. This can't be legal. There's got to be some type of regulation to this."

Chris shook his head. "Asking me again isn't gonna work any better than it did the first time. I'm pretty much cleared to do whatever. It's The Bad Place, children." He grinned. "Not many rules around here."

Gwen spoke up again. "So, now that we know, what are you gonna do to us? Are we just gonna get shipped off to another part of the afterlife?"

"I was actually thinking I'd just hit the reset button. Y'know, wipe your memories, change a few factors in the competition, see how long it takes you guys to figure it out next time."

"Next time?!" Courtney shook her head. "Nuh-uh, buddy! I don't _belong_ here! There's not gonna _be_ a next time once I'm through!"

The host tilted his head. " _Try me._ "

The very next moment, he snapped his fingers.

* * *

 

The next attempt, Chris didn't tweak much about the competition. Just minor things, just to see if they'd affect the outcome any. Itchier bedsheets, grosser food, things like that.

It made them complain more, but they still figured it out by the end of the competition. This time, though, it was Heather's revelation; she was Owen's competitor instead of Gwen this time. She had outlasted them in the triple dog dare semifinals because of an increased tolerance for gross things.

So Chris tried again. And again. And again. And somehow, the damn teenagers kept figuring it out.

In one cycle, he even managed to make it about four seasons into the "show", promising the campers another shot at earning their spot in The Good Place if they just pushed on for another season, before Beth accused him near the end. It was the farthest he ever managed to get.

On top of this, despite running billions of computer scans on these kids (he had even taken five seconds to run some extra analysis, instead of taking the usual three seconds), some of them always inevitably befriended each other. For example, Leshawna was universally liked, except by Heather, who liked no one.

Heather's contempt for every other camper was persistent; Chris didn't think she'd ever made any genuine connections, not even after hundreds of resets. The only thing that came close was a conversation she had with Harold after the season one finale, but Chris couldn't tell if that was just more of her manipulation tactics. Humans were hard to read.

Ezekiel was always banished to a fiery eternity of pain first for his sexist comments. Gwen and Trent always got all heart-eyes over each other. Courtney always deluded herself into believing she had been destined for The Good Place to begin with. Eva was always voted off immediately if she was ever brought back.

It was the most interesting thing that Chris had ever seen. Chef didn't seem too impressed with it, though.

All of this would have been excellent data for studying the behavior of humans, for formulating new and innovative ways to torture. Too bad Chris wasn't a demon of science.

Ah, well. His boss had given him permission to carry out his experiment, and he was having fun with it.

He wasn't here for a productive time. He was here for a good time. And he had all the time in the underworld at his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit where credit is due: I was completely inspired by lesbianfemmefatale's post on Tumblr about TDI being set in hell, and they gave me the go-ahead to write a little bit about it!


End file.
